The Eccles Brothers
by icclenomi
Summary: The eccles are new additions to the hood gang, but when one of them is captured, a whole can of worms is opened and past mistrusts are brought to light. violence- horrid violence.
1. Chapter 1

_It cannot be certain, but it is said that the moment everything started to go wrong for Allan a Dale was when the gang rescued a couple of men from taking a fatal drop. The day had been like many others, they had given food out to the people, defied the sheriff, and checked in on Guy's goings on. It was just like any other day. Then, they saw some men being dragged to the scaffolding in the courtyard- seemingly for nothing and so had rescued them. These men had appeared useful however, and wanted to help and so Alistair and Quentin of Eccles became Hood's men. For two years they served alongside the 'originals' before Will and Djaq Scarlett returned to England, with a three year old child named Daniel, already skilful with weapons, but left with Luke Scarlet and his young bride, so that he may grow up away from a life in the dark forests. Their return was due to King Richard's disappearance, which had created a blanket of darkness over the entire country. The events which follow occurred some three and a half years after the arrival of the Eccles brothers._


	2. Chapter 2

_part 1_

1197

"You know, we have been here for three years and I still never asked..." Quentin sat down next to Allan, handing him a plate of food. "Why do you always say 'i'm not being funny'?"

"what? I don't, do I?" Everybody stared. "what?"

"You mean you never noticed you said it? That's weird..." Put in Alistair, who had joined them next to his Brother.

"very weird."

"Let us not forget who we are talking about here though," this quip came from Much. "I mean he's hardly normal is he?" The group fell into a strange silence as they all looked in wonderment at Allan, that is- until he could take it no more.

"I'm not bein' funny, but the look on your faces- priceless!" Beginning to laugh, Quentin punched Allan on the arm playfully. "Oh yeah? Starting are we? You starting wiv me?"  
As Allan and Quentin began wrestling with each other on the ground, with the other guys cheering them on, Djaq might have been heard muttering about men, that is- if any of them were paying attention, the fight stopped abruptly as Allan's head connected with a sharp rock and he howled with pain.

"Argh! Jigger me!" Djaq rolled her eyes and walked over to where he was sitting and Quentin looked worried.

"Honestly, you never listen no matter how many times I say about fighting- even in jest..."

"Look, I'm not being funny but its -oooow!" Djaq smiled to herself.

"You will live." she stood up and walked back over to where Will had his arm out for her. Allan accepted the hand Quentin offered him and stood up, only wavering when the blood rushed to his head.

"You little-" Quentin laughed at Allan and sized him up.

"Little? To coin a popular phrase... 'I'm not bein funny, but who are you to talk of little?'"

"Oi!" As if to prove his point Quentin grabbed one of Allan's belongings and held it out of his reach.

"Oh, this again? How clever." At seeing his friend so put out Quentin felt slightly guilty and lowered his hand, he had been teased about his size a lot recently... Suddenly grinning, Allan grabbed both his, and Quentin's purses and ran.

"You..." The rest of the gang watched on as their 'children' played.


	3. Chapter 3

_aprt two now..._

Where was that coach? It should have come through two hours ago... Robin counted the times this had happened lately, four times in two weeks. He found himself looking in Allan's direction, seeing the man looking out to the road in confusion. Surely he wouldn't do it a second time? Robin told himself it was nothing- winter was coming and coaches would stop at inns more frequently... that was all. And reluctantly he called his gang in, lets go home. Will and Djaq had sett off for Scarborough a little over three weeks ago, and would be back with the gang in another two, meanwhile the six men continued to plod on.

"Eurgh..." Allan rubbed his eyes. "What time is it?"

"Eight." Quentin called out at him.

"How do you know that?" Allan asked, quite confused- he had expected a time of day, not an actual time.

"He has it written on a bit of parchment." Right... Thought Allan, I wont ask.

"Whats on the agenda today, then? Is it Clun or Nettlestone?"

"Neither, it's Locksley."

"I thought we did Locksley... Wake me in a few hours." Allan lay back down and was met with a swift kick in the back from Alistair. "Oooww!"

"Al?" Quentin inquired after his older brother, indicating Allan now squeezing his eyes shut in pain.

"What? He needs to get up, we've got rounds! He's just being dramatic see..." With a scoop under the arms he picked Allan up and plonked him back down on the floor. "you're far to easy to lift- you know that right?"

Rubbing his back all Allan did was send a glare his way and move slowly towards the sacks of food waiting to be delivered. Quentin gave his brother a strange look before he joined Allan and they made their way to Locksley. Quentin looked sideways at Allan, the guy seemed to be smaller and slower recently, and had bags forming under his eyes- perhaps he should have slept while they made the drops... He tried to con Allan out of carrying so many sacks over the passing hour, but to no avail, he was as stubborn as a mule. He shook his head as they reached Locksley, they began making their way around the village when Gisborne seized Quentin.

No... Allan tried to think of any way he could help his friend, but finding himself at a loss, he ran. How had Gisborne known they would be there?


	4. Chapter 4

_part three ___

Allan stumbled towards the camp, trying to catch his breath. He dreaded to think how Alistair would take this news. Push it from your mind, allan. He told himself. Just get back to camp and tell them. When he finally got back to camp he found them sitting around having a laugh. He cried hoarsely from the entrance.

"Locksley... gisborne... Quent... ee... ee took im... an'..." He wasn't fully aware of the fact that he was now sitting down. "I.. I couldn't think what to do an.."

"You left him?!" Allan's stomach dropped. He wouldn't, not in front of everybody.

"al- it werent... I didnt.. it werent like that." For the second time that day Allan a Dale felt himself being sent into the air and Alistair picked him up by the shirt. Blinking off his dizziness he tried to explain.

"How did he know you were coming?" came the reasonable voice of robin. "put him down, Al."

"Dunno." Allan supplied, eyeing Alistair warily. "Been wonderin' that since it 'appened."

"The last time... how much was it that bought your loyalty?" what? "Has the price gone up this time? Amazing isn't it- just as you start losing sleep, becoming more fidgety, things start to get harder."

"What, robin- no."

"Is it just chance that the very village you go to, Gisborne is waiting, and you miraculously go free?"

"But Robin- I didn't even-"

"I'll ask you again. How much did you get paid for your loyalty?" Allan became increasingly frightened by this point that he had no chance of convincing them of the truth.

"I swear to you- I didn't!" Desperate, Allan cried out, "Do you think I'd be stupid enough to d that again?" it was all he could do to stop himself from showing his hurt, masking it with anger. But this was short lived, as the front of his shirt was once again gasped and he was flung away from the camp. With one last glance at the gang, he fled.


	5. Chapter 5

_Part four_

By the time Allan reached a small village he had almost completely worn himself out, his back was aching, his head was increasingly heavier, and it was all he could do to stay on his feet. He found himself heading towards the Inn and stumbling in he made his way to the bar. He fliched as he felt a hand on his back before relaxing as he saw a small barmaid.

"You're the outlaw, allan a dale?"

"who wants to know?" The girl grabbed a hold of his arm and led him to a small room.

"Guy of gisborne and many castle guards come here often- it would be safer for you, and us, if you were in the back."

"oh. Well, thank you." The girl gave a nod and left the room. It was a few minutes before Allan got nervous, he was about to ask about getting a room for the night when the door opened.

"Hello allan."

"Wh... what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be-" Allan was on the floor before he knew it. He tried to scrabble away, but his vest was seized and he was crashed into a wall, held above the ground so his feet dangled. "please... jus..."

The glint that flashed through Alistair Eccle's eyes was frightening, more so than usual. As Allan tried to shut out the pains shooting through his body he thought back to when this started- two months ago... little things he did seemed to anger Alistair, at first he hadn't thought anything of it, perhaps he was getting annoying- it wouldn't be the first time- but then it got a little more serious. Meal times, when others were distracted, his food would find its way onto the floor, or into Alistair's bowl- he would find himself brushed off, a sly punch, or a trip. It had happened gradually though, and he hadn't realised how bad it had gotten, that is- until this morning when he somehow earned a boot in his back. He was brought back to present time as a hand grabbed his arm, he could feel every bone in his body aching, but this one was more defined, more deliberate as a crack was heard and he felt his eye-sight go black as his arm flared up in pain, he was held there for a while longer- trying to hold onto his arm, but being unable to do so and was then unceremoniously dropped to the floor suddenly, without warning and he was suddenly very aware of his feet, and his ankle. He opened his eyes to see Alistair making his exit and, slowly, Allan started to pull himself up. 


	6. Chapter 6

_Part 5_

_  
Allan stumbled into the street after Alistair. Shouting out at him, he put one foot in front of the other to try to catch up._

"I didn't betray you guys! I wouldn't!" He fell to his knees. "not again." Alistair smirked as he walked slowly towards Allan. He flicked his cloak behind him as he crouched down on his toes and just looked Allan, who was now visibly shaking, in the eye. He watched as Allan's eyes travelled to a crimson purse attached to his belt. "you? But.. ?"  
Alistair, in one fluid motion, brought out a concealed dagger and delved it deep into Allan's side, causing the man to cry out, and double-up into himself, curling up on the dirty ground.

"I don't know how I can thank you for being a sneak in the past. I got reckless, gave away too much- but I won't make that mistake again, I wish I didn't have to sacrifice Quent to do it, but what are you going to do?"

"your... your own bruvverrr...? 'ook 'eree, mate. I migh' be a..." his body shuddered. "I migh' be a li'ul conflicted... bu' at least I would never.. av.. sold ou' my own li'ul bruvv..." Alistair grabbed a hold of Allan's hair, and whispered in his ear.

"Still couldn't save him though. Could you?" Allan squeezed his eyes shut as these words took their effect. Alistair let go of Allan and stood up. He took one last kick at his side, before leaving him to bleed out on the road. 


	7. Chapter 7

"_you did what?" Will asked robin as calmly as he could. He and Djaq were not best pleased that within five minutes of returning they were informed that Allan had once again been thrown from the gang. They hadn't been gone for more than... honestly! "Robin, please tell me you let him speak?" He turned to Much, who shook his head._

"He's been acting suspisious for weeks! Losing sleep, weight- getting shifty!"

"perhaps allan was ill? There are many illnesses around."

"Gisborne was always two steps ahead of us-"

"Maybe it was someone else?"

"Like who? Who else would betray us?" Alistair chose this moment to emerge with red eyes, seemingly upset about his brother's capture. "We will get him back, Alistair."

"Robin. Even if he did- would Gisborne ever trust allan again?" Robin had no answer.

Allan urged himself to get up. He had managed so far to drag himself to a stone wall. Pain is only temporary... he told himself this over and over. He had to warn Robin! And... oh no Quentin! He would have to be told and... look allan, just get on your feet first- worry about that later- but they could be doing anything to him- but later warn robin- they could then rescue Quentin. He pulled himself up in a surge of strength which sent his entire body into invisible flames, he pulled his injured arm into where Alistair had stabbed him- to try to stem the flow and walked, trying to ignore the constant drip-drip-dripping of blood on the floor- it wouldn't be difficult to track him that was for sure- but he had to warn the gang, his family.


	8. Chapter 8

_Will walked at the back with Much on the way to the castle, asking about what they had missed. He had been reliably informed that Allan had been more tired, and had become smaller- which was one of the things that prompted Robin to suspect him, that they had hardly raided a coach and that Allan was not the only person acting strangely._

"Just before it happened- Allan was trying to go back to sleep- and Alistair was having none of it."

"What?" Alistair had always been an easygoing guy- less so than his brother, who had become instant friends with Allan- being just one year Allan's elder- but having none of it?

"He kicked him- rather hard in the back. Perhaps he had suspicions." Will found himself looking at the strong man in front of him- a kick from him, even a light one could seriously harm a man of Allan's size, especially if he had been in a weakened state as they said. Will did not like this, he smelled a rat- and it was not Allan- he couldn't see him going back. The things Allan had confided to him about what Gisborne had done to him whilst... he wouldn't have gone back. Will was not as blind as Robin- he spent his time watching the movements of the others- you can learn a lot about a person by watching them when they think no ones looking. He watched Alistair. Unlike everyone else, he seemed less worried about his brother when no one was watching- which told will he was exaggerating his worries- most men would be the opposite, put on a brave front. Things just... didn't seem right. 


	9. Chapter 9

_Quentin had been alone until a small figure was thrown into the cell with him, unmoving. He immediately went over to him to see how badly he was hurt, and when he rolled him over he saw Allan- looking very worse for wear. He took of one of his large shirts and dabbed it around Allan's body- looking for the source of all the blood- finally finding it in the side of his chest. Apologising in his head he pressed it to the wound and tied the arms of the shirt around his body. He then gently shook him._

"Allan? Come on, mate- wake up." he pleaded with him. He took in all of the injuries to his body and did his best not to weep. It wasn't for another hour that the broken man in his arms stirred. "Allan!"

Looking at Quentin his eyes widened as before second glances- he looked just as Alistair. But the man relaxed once he realised that his was being cradled- not something he could ever expect of Alistair.

"Quent..." He coughed. "I gotta warn... You gotta warn..."

"Gotta warn? What is it?"

"Traitor- there's a traitor... and... you've gotta warn..."

"Me? Why me? Allan?" Allan was giving him a look that he did not like.

"I won... I won.. mek it out of 'ere- you've gotta wa-"

"No Allan, don't talk like that!"

"Alistair." Quentin raised an eyebrow. "He's betrayed you."

"No." Quentin shook his head- no! He would never- he and Alistair had been all each other had- he knew him- he would not betray them. "No he wouldn't."

"Trust me...please." Allan's eyes begged Quentin to believe, but he couldn't- no! "'E been hurtin... me for months... I found... I saw 'is purse, an when I did he..."

Quentin refused to believe that his brother could do such a thing, his head was spinning- why would Allan lie to him? Unless he was the traitor? But no- if he was the traitor- he would not be in this cell looking like death. What if he thought the Alistair was the traitor, maybe he was mistaken? He could have been mistaken- maybe Alistair had taken it from the real traitor- or had pickpocketed a noble or-

"E stabbed me." The walls came crashing down.

"Wh...what?" his thoughts went back to the wound in Allan's side.

"I found out... 'e bea' me up... an 'ee stabbed me... I swear- I tried to figh' 'im off- I tri' e stop 'im, mek 'im see sense- bu'" Allan was using his precious breath to tell Quentin all he knew. Quent, knowing this tried to get him to stop talking the only way he believed he would.

"I believe you. Now, please, save your breath." Hearing a familiar voice echoing from the doorway Quentin turned- about to shout to his brother for help, but then hearing the words the voice was saying he felt his heart plummet. Guards entered the room and opened his cell, with fear in his eyes he tried to protect Allan- but to no avail as he was hit across the face and Allan was taken. For the first time since his mother died Quentin of Eccles cried.


	10. Chapter 10

_Three hours after this- the gang came to rescue him. They had avoided the guards, takend out the gaoler and when they got the cell open and Alistair went to embrace his brother he was met with a fist in his face. The rest of the gang were in shock- that was not the usual reaction to being rescued._

"How much did they pay you? Was it enough?" The man screamed, tears in his eyes. "Have I not been a good brother? Why did you do it?!" Alistair looked up, seemingly confused.

"What?"

"Traitor." Came the seething whisper in return. "Allan told me-"

"Allan? Well of course he would say that he-"

"You beat him- for months."

"What?"

"You stabbed him in the side of his chest- I know because I had to use one of my shirts to try to stop the bleeding."

"Quentin- I swear to you I did noth-" Quentin's next words were quiet, soft.

"I heard you, you know? I didn't believe Allan- until I heard you- out there." This was the point that Alistair got truly afraid. "He pleaded with me to beleive- told me I'd have to warn everybody. He couldn't, he thought. I'm not going to make it out of here, Quentin. You're going to have to warn everyone, Quentin. Your brother beat me, quentin. He stabbed me in the side!" With every sentence, Quentin hit his brother, who was backing into a corner the furious gazes of all the outlaws on him. Alistair didn't resist when his brother reached inside his cloak and brought out a heavy purse and a dagger, coated with a layer of dried blood. "I never want to see you again." leaving the cell Quentin slammed the door shut.

_The outlaws flew through the castle trying to think where they would keep Allan- he had not been in the torture chamber- that was the first place they had looked. Suddenly, Will had a thought and led everybody to the larder and started feeling at the walls._

"look for loose stone- there's a doorway somewhere around here..."

"How do you know?" Will didn't answer straight away- he was a confidant, so without explaining he simply said 'Allan'. The outlaws were interrupted as a small chamber maid entered the room- sneaking around to 'acquire' some food, she looked at the outlaws. And wordlessly walked over to one of the shelves and pushed on the wall next to it, revealing a doorway. She stuffed a piece of bread down her dress, and left the room. Making a note of what the girl looked like, the outlaws proceeded to the room, but none, save Quentin, were prepared for the sight before them. But to their horror- he was cold. 


	11. Chapter 11

_Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseno! The mantra going through everybody's heads. He would not be- could not be!_

Robin stared at the man on the floor- willing him to live- if he did not live- he could not forgive them, forgive him for his mistake. They had all ignored his pain, he had been getting weaker everyday, and no one thought to question it. Robin did not want a gang where people suffered in silence, alone. He had to live so that they could look after him. They were a family. A family. And Allan was the baby, the child- he needed guiding, he needed support- Robin was the father- untrusting- but that should not be the way! He should be the father, supportive, approachable- his gang should be able to come to him when they are in trouble rather than fear him.

Will watched his wife frantically checking for any sign that the man was alive. Allan had been... no Allan was his best friend. Although two years his elder, Allan was like a younger brother to Will- not that he would ever tell him. Allan liked to see himself as an older brother- who taught Will the important things in life- like gambling and ripping people off, but he didn't see that Will had been teaching him, how to be loved, how to be honest- even if it was just to himself.

Much was besides himself. He had suspected something between Alistair and Allan, but had said nothing- looked the other way. Told himself anything to keep himself from realising the truth- he hadn't wanted to believe it, that a member of the gang would purposefully harm another. If he had just said something... he watched Djaq as she glided over Allan's unmoving body and he bit his lip.

Quentin had Allan's hand held in his own as Djaq listened. He felt it move and whispered to her. She held her hand to Allan's mouth. Breath. She tried not to show to much excitement in case she was wrong, but she put her hand upon Allan's broken chest and felt a faint pounding- the man was alive, barely- but he was alive. She turned and called for cloaks, shirts- anything to warm him up and the gang sprung into action- within minutes Allan was drowned in four cloaks and a very large shirt- he was lifted by Little John- with more grace and care that one would expect from the man and the outlaws hurried away. 


	12. Chapter 12

_*cough* right- this is the ending. I've very sorry, but I thought about it and thought about it- and this- to me is the only ending that makes sense._

Allan coughed- and when he did he brought up a great deal of blood, which concerned his friends- but they could not contain their joy as he awoke. Surely if he was concious- he would only get better! And for a few days- he was. However living in the forest was hardly the best way to recover from wounds. Living as an outlaw was hardly the best way to keep up your strength. Constantly moving, running- dirty, diseased. And so it was that on the fourteenth day of July 1198, Allan a Dale gave up on life. Don't waste your food on a dead man. he had said. save it for those who can use it. They had tried to keep him awake as long as possible, telling jokes, stories- they forced laughter, and refused to keep from smiling- so that the last thing he saw was not of sadness. As they sang a song of home, Allan a Dale passed away.

Years passed. Good King Richard was freed from captivity, forgave his brother and died. Prince John became King John- until he became too greedy and as a result died, along with many of his men. The outlaws themselves eventually settled down- John left first, leaving to search for his son, and soon even Robin was no longer dwelling in the forest but there was always a gang somewhere carrying the phrase "We are Robin Hood"- and so the legend grew. No one knew of the tale of the Eccles brothers and Allan a Dale- what happened to them was not sung of, or written down it simply faded away as many other great tales do, along with the lives of the people their tales touched- the young boys and girls who played 'outlaws' in the streets, the thatchers who put roofs over peoples heads- the footsoldiers who became unidentifiable, who all merged together in the memories of England.

Quentin walked through York with his wife and watched a man who had set up a game. Come on, mate, give it a go, I swear I've lost so much money on this it's not even funny. He watched as men approached him and played- not noticing their money disappear into the man's purse. He saw a guard spot the man and, because he couldn't watch this stranger be caught, he walked upto him, sat down and said.

"I'm not being funny- but I'd clear off if I was you- you've been spotted." Then with a wink he stood and joined his wife. It had been five years since Allan had passed away, and the pain never left his chest- but he in his eyes he wasn't gone, every time he looked at a child playing, or someone joking- laughing, he thought of Allan. As long as there were people alive who remembered him, Allan lived on. 


End file.
